


do you hear them too?

by kireinayuta



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cemetery, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, Past Lee Jeno & Park Jisung, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends, Talking To Dead People, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27391633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kireinayuta/pseuds/kireinayuta
Summary: For one, Jaemin was telling this all to Chenle, and it didn’t feel right for Jeno to listen in on any of it.For two, the upwards quirk of Jaemin’s lips whenever he talks about Renjun makes Jeno feel queasy. He doesn’t know how Jaemin can talk about the less than lovely parts of everything he’s been through with a smile on his face, and he’s torn between thinking it was a symbol of strength, or a symbol of unwellness.But he doesn’t think too much about it.Or, Jeno learns that between black and white, grey exists too.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42





	do you hear them too?

✿✿✿

Black and white seem so simple, if you were to look at them like they were. 

A simple shade too dark, a simple shade too light, and there was no in between visible with the two of them. They look too different, they look too much like they’d never get along. 

They look like they know different things, experience different things, think about different things.

Maybe one of them is happier than the other, but that seemed a bit stereotypical. 

It makes Jeno wonder though, if he and Jisung were black and white. 

Wouldn’t that be a simpler way to look at things? 

There’s nothing in between, there are no complexities. There’s just Jeno, and there’s just Jisung. And together, there’s just Jeno and Jisung, and if they’re apart it’s back to just being Jeno, and just being Jisung. 

So he thinks, is that what they are now? Is Jisung simply Jisung, and is Jeno simply… Jeno?

Because that’s an awful feeling. He doesn’t want it like that, it wasn’t  _ simple  _ at all, and whoever said it was is lying. 

Because there’s nothing simple about it, not two months ago, not last week, not this morning, and definitely not right now, when the sun is setting and the orange is threatening to cast a dark, blue drape over him. 

He wouldn’t really mind if the sun did though, he doubts he can feel any colder than he does right now. 

What part of this— what part of  _ all of this  _ was simple? Was black and white? Because the way Jeno looks at it, the way he wants to look at it, he wants to believe there’s a grey area.

He wants to be able to see where everything gets mixed up, where lines are blurred, where you can’t see clearly anymore. 

And he doesn’t know if he’s desperate to see where black mixes into white because he wants to know everything, wants to  _ understand  _ everything, or if it’s simply because it’ll make everything seem like it didn’t happen. Like it wasn’t his fault, and like there was nothing he could’ve done to prevent things. 

But the one thing he does know, is that that’s wrong. 

Like everything he thought about this situation, it’s wrong. 

It’s all wrong, and Jeno is left to look down at what has come from him being wrong. 

_ In loving memory of _

_ PARK JI SUNG _

_ Brother, son, friend _

_ 2002 - 2020 _

And it doesn’t feel right, it doesn’t feel real, it doesn’t feel like he’s really here, kneeling over the grave of his best friend. 

Because it isn’t, right? It isn’t real, and it’s not happening, and Jeno is going to wake up tomorrow and the sun will actually shine, and the world will spin, and colour will return to the world, like he’s been telling himself for the past two months. 

_ Quite a long dream, isn’t it Jeno hyung? _

Jeno shakes his head in the loneliness of the graveyard, knowing no one can see him. No one sees him, and he hopes that Jisung isn’t up there watching him, and that there was  _ some  _ type of terrible misunderstanding.

_ I’m sorry, hyung. _

“No, I’m sorry,” Jeno breathes out, squeezing his eyes shut and not caring that he’s now resorted to talking to himself. He could’ve been digging up the grave, if he was faring worse. “Hyung’s sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,”

Jeno’s shoulders still immediately upon hearing the new and foreign voice, breath catching as he realizes that he wasn’t alone all this time, like he thought. 

“Scared you a bit, did I? Sorry about that, I always forget it’s really quiet here,” the voice continues, and Jeno doesn’t bother turning to face it. 

He has no interest, and he wasn’t here for a stranger anyways. 

How rude was it anyways, when someone talks to you out of the blue in a graveyard?

“Park Ji Sung,” the stranger reads from the stone, and Jeno flinches. Why does it feel so  _ wrong,  _ coming from someone who he doesn’t know? Why does it make him want to rip his hair out, how dare a  _ stranger  _ who doesn’t even know of Jisung speak his name with such nonchalance. “Like the soccer player?”

Jeno whips his head around fast at the question, a glare on his face as he sees who the voice belongs to. 

It’s a boy who looks to be around the same age as him, a baggy sweater over his frame and his hair a pink colour so bright, it hurts Jeno’s eyes. 

“Oh, sorry. Was I not supposed to ask that?” the boy says again, quietly this time though, as his neutral eyes take in Jeno’s glare. 

Jeno wonders in what context he thought it would’ve been okay to ask that. Or in what context it would’ve made sense for him to come over to a stranger in a graveyard. 

_ Hyung, as rude as always. _

“I’m not rude, you brat,” Jeno grumbles out of habit, unaware of the fact that now there is indeed someone who is hearing him talk to himself, unlike what he thought before. 

He doesn’t let it show on his face though, how embarrassed he is to be caught talking to himself like a lunatic. 

The boy before him probably thinks he’s weird now, and that’s saying something since he’s more than sure the boy knows that he himself is weird. 

Which is why he doesn’t know why he’s so surprised by the boy not having the reaction he thought he would. The reaction a normal person would. This person has been in Jeno’s presence for no more than three minutes, but Jeno already knows he’s a bit odd. 

“You hear them too?” he asks in a whisper, and when Jeno looks, the corner of his lips are quirked up. And then, like he was invited to, the boy kneels down next to Jeno. “I’m Jaemin.”

“I didn’t ask,” Jeno says back, feeling his irritation levels rise as the seconds pass by. He wasn’t entertained by this, and he certainly wasn’t impressed either. He wants nothing more, than to be left alone again. 

“I don’t think Jisung would like it if you were being mean,” the boy, Jaemin, says, looking back at the gravestone.

“Don’t act like you know what Jisung would’ve liked,” he spits, wishing Jaemin would keep Jisung’s name out of his mouth, and would stop looking at his gravestone like he had the right to. 

“I don’t think anyone would like it if you were being mean. Jisung isn’t an exception,” Jaemin says, shrugging his shoulders. His hand goes into his pocket right after, and Jeno watches as he pulls out a singular, very small flower. He places it beside the bouquet Jeno had left there previously. “Park Jisung. May you rest in peace.”

Jeno watches blankly, as Jaemin smiles at the gravestone and closes his eyes. By the way Jaemin’s lips move a very little bit, Jeno deems he’s saying a prayer. 

He lets his irritation melt away for only a second, closing his eyes as well and clasping his hands together. 

Next to a stranger, Jeno prays for his best friend. 

_ See? Was it so hard to be decent? _

Jeno’s lips twitch in a rebuttal before he realizes that Jisung isn’t really beside him, asking him that question. 

Instead, Jisung is six feet under the very ground Jeno is kneeling on. 

“It’s always hard when you’re not here,” he settles on answering, because he figures that even if Jisung isn’t beside him asking the question, he’s up there listening to his answer. 

“But it won’t always be,” a cheery voice says next, effectively breaking Jeno out of his warped thoughts, and once again reminding him that Jisung wasn’t here with him. Instead, it’s Jaemin. 

“Right,” Jeno mutters, not believing Jaemin at all. For anyone who knew Jisung, they’d know that it’ll be hard for life, now that he’s no longer there laughing, eating, or cracking jokes he immediately takes back because  _ I’m just kidding hyung! I love you! _

“I can tell you don’t believe me,” Jaemin says next, humming as he looks up into the now dark, blue sky. Jeno hadn’t even noticed the sun was gone. “Would you like some tea?”

“Tea?” Jeno echoes, taken aback by the subject change and the question. 

“You seem like a tea type of man,” Jaemin justifies, looking at Jisung’s gravestone with one last smile before slowly getting up. “Jisung told me.”

Jeno knows very well that Jisung didn’t tell Jaemin that he prefers tea over coffee, or any other warm drink, but he can’t help but take in Jaemin’s words and finds a comfort in them.

Jisung would definitely let a stranger know such a redundant detail about him. He’d tell a stranger Jeno’s whole life story, if no one else was listening, if no one were to ask questions. When Jisung starts talking, he doesn’t stop. 

“You’re a stranger,” Jeno blurts when he notices Jaemin still waiting for an answer, looking at him with a look that Jeno can’t pinpoint. Not that he’d want to pinpoint it anyways. He’s never going to see Jaemin again, after tonight. 

“So are you,” is all Jaemin says back, another smile stretching across his lips. Jeno has never seen someone smile this much in a graveyard, of all places. As the minutes tick by, he wonders more and more if Jaemin was normal. “But everyone is a stranger. The saying is  _ ‘don’t be a stranger _ ’ for a reason.”

“What if I want to stay a stranger?” Jeno asks. 

“A lot of people do. But that’s… Boring.”

_ Jeno hyung, always so boring. _

  
  
  


Jeno’s tea is a fruity mix of leaves and fruits he can’t pronounce properly, something he drinks when the cold air nips at his skin and turns his ears red. 

But it isn’t that cold yet, not yet in the crisp air of October. Maybe in a few weeks though, it will be cold enough for Jeno to indulge in the fruity blend he loves so much. Or maybe it’ll be even colder, he doesn’t really know. It’s been harder to gage what’s cold when the empty space next to him is glaring, leaving him wondering if there’ll always be a dark cloud looming over his head, blocking out the sun. 

“Hm, more sugar,” Jaemin mumbles from in front of him, his small and shaky fingers tearing open a packet of white sugar, trembling the same way they did when he had paid for their drinks in coins at the counter. He had taken a minute or so to count the amount properly, which led to Jeno looking over apologetically to the customers lined up behind them, and the cashier who was dealing with Jaemin. 

“Isn’t that too sweet?” Jeno asks, unable to stop himself as he sees Jaemin stir in the fine sugar into his coffee. It’s black and murky, as Jaemin had explained that he was lactose intolerant when Jeno hadn’t said a thing. 

“It’s very hard for something to be ‘too sweet’,” Jaemin says, and while Jeno vehemently disagrees, he doesn’t say anything. “How’s your tea?”

“It’s good, thank you,” Jeno says awkwardly, taking a small sip and letting the warmth seep into what the cold night air did to his bones. 

“I’m glad,” Jaemin grins, taking a large gulp of his coffee and not even minding how hot it was. “Ah, Lee Donghyuck!” 

Jeno notices that Jaemin’s eyes have caught sight of something over his shoulder, and out of pure curiosity, Jeno turns his head to see what he’s looking at 

What he sees is another boy, except this was is wearing the uniform all the other employees are wearing. And this one looks embarrassed when he’s called out by Jaemin, the tips of his ears red as he walks to their table. 

“Hello, Jaemin,” he greets, smiling at him before turning to Jeno. “Brought a friend with you today?” 

“I don’t know,” Jaemin answers before Jeno gets the chance to say something. “I met him at the cemetery.”

The easy going smile on Donghyuck’s face drops, and he looks at Jeno immediately, apologetic. 

“Listen, I’m sorry if he disturbed you—” he starts, but Jaemin doesn’t let him finish.

“He hears him too, Hyuckie,” Jaemin says, eyes wide with excitement and a sparkle that makes Jeno  _ think.  _ “I heard him talking too.”

Donghyuck looks sympathetic when he looks back at Jaemin, but he lets another small smile onto his face anyway. 

He doesn’t look at Jeno again.

“Jaemin-ah, get home soon tonight, okay? It’s not safe late at night,” he advises in a doting tone. When Jeno sees Jaemin nod his head enthusiastically, he wants to know how much of him is actually going to listen to Donghyuck. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jaemin promises as Donghyuck walks away, and all the latter does is nod. “He’s my best friend.” Jaemin says to Jeno once Donghyuck has entered back into the kitchen. 

_ He doesn’t seem like one _ , Jeno thinks to himself, nodding at Jaemin’s words and playing with a sugar packet. 

_ Don’t be mean, Jeno hyung. _

Internally, Jeno sighs. 

“I’ve known him since I was eleven,” Jaemin continues, adding another packet of sugar to his coffee. Jeno wonders how often he goes to the dentist. “I’m twenty-two now.” 

Jeno has known Jisung since the latter was born, growing up side by side and accomplishing many things together. 

Jeno is suddenly very jealous of how Jaemin gets to see Donghyuck today, and tomorrow, and if he’d have to guess, the day after that. 

“I’m twenty-two,” Jeno mumbles out, just something to distract himself from the jealousy that’s, ashamedly, boiling in his chest. 

“Yay! Same aged friend,” Jaemin exclaims, jarring Jeno and probably everyone else around them as well. “Are you still in school? I am, I’m studying kinesiology,” he babbles, and Jeno wonders how someone like him can study something like kinesiology.

He only realizes it’s a rude thought when he sees Jaemin’s expectant eyes in front of him, waiting for him to answer the question.

“I graduated. I studied literature,” he says, vaguely thinking about his job at an editorial office. 

“I took a gap year,” Jaemin continues, to the point where Jeno seriously wonders if he’s been asking questions without even knowing it. But then again, he wouldn’t put it past Jaemin to just keep talking even if he didn’t ask him to. “Travelled a lot with someone. Europe, the rest of Asia, a few states in America… It was nice,” he smiles, opening another sugar packet. “I learned a lot of English.”

Jeno nods, unsure of what to say. He doesn’t want to know about Jaemin’s travels, nor does he care to ask about the new language he picked up. But he doesn’t have anything to say, Jaemin is looking at him expectantly, and Jeno thinks he feels Donghyuck’s eyes on him, from somewhere behind him. 

“I like travelling,” he finally says, looking down at his half of the tea left in the cup. “One day, I want to go to Shanghai,” he continues, feeling the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. 

_ Just because I always wanted to go? _

“Duh,” Jeno mutters, looking up for a brief second and watching Jaemin take another large gulp of his coffee. He wonders how hot it is. 

“I’ve been to Shanghai,” Jaemin says, swirling around the rest of the coffee in his cup. “It’s very nice there.”

_ Lucky _ .

“I’ll take you to Shanghai one day, stranger,” Jaemin says, and there’s something in his tone, that makes Jeno feel like he wasn’t joking. But he’d never see Jaemin again, after he stepped out of his coffee shop. 

He realizes that he has yet to tell Jaemin a lot of things, for Jaemin to want to take him to Shanghai. He doesn’t make a move to do that though, because when Jeno looks at him again, he’s fiddling with another sugar packet. 

Jeno watches, as Jaemin pours more sugar into his coffee. 

✿✿✿

_ Cheese ramyun? You never eat that. _

“But you do,” he hums, putting his groceries away and closing the cabinets behind him. “And I don’t mind it too much. It’s not bad.” 

Jeno doesn’t get an answer, so he doesn’t dwell on it. Instead, he picks up an orange from his fruit bowl, standing over the garbage as he peels the orange and gets rid of all the white strands which irritate him to the ends of the earth. 

Oddly enough, Jisung never had a problem with the white stuff, and Jeno never ended up eating the oranges he’d peel for him. 

He brings his snack with him to his living room couch, not bothering with a bowl or a plate, his hand was sufficient enough. As Jeno eats, he looks around the frames and plants he has decorating the floors and walls of his space, all dust free since he’d cleaned them this morning. 

_ I still think growing a lemon tree would’ve been better than those stupid flowers you have. _

“Lemon trees take years to grow,” Jeno sighs, halfway through his orange. “And flowers are pretty to look at. I’ll bring you some from here next time.”

Jeno thinks he hears Jisung groan, and he wonders if he should start seeing someone. 

People grieve differently, but he’s positive that hearing voices is never a good sign. 

It’s okay though, because Jeno had flipped the photo frames on his bedside table back up, and now the last thing he sees before going to sleep is Jisung with an arm around his shoulder, and the first thing he sees is Jisung smiling like he couldn’t be happier. 

Jeno guesses he could’ve been, though. Maybe if Jisung was happier, he wouldn’t end up the way they had. 

_ You’re doing it again _ .

“I’m just thinking,” Jeno scowls, tearing into the last three segments of his orange. 

_ That’s the problem. Can you stop thinking I’m not right next to you? Or do you want to get rid of me that bad, Jeno hyung? _

Jeno doesn’t say anything immediately, the empty space on the couch beside him and the lack of a dip in the cushion making him sigh heavily. Now that Jisung has pointed it out, the quietness of his home and the pictures of his dead best friend make his mind reel.

“I don’t see you,” he ends up saying lamely, voice shaky near the end, because that’s the problem isn’t it? He can’t see Jisung, he’ll never be able to see Jisung again, and honestly? That’s not fair.

_ Life’s not fair. _

“Not to you, it most definitely wasn’t,” he fires back, the last orange segment passing down his throat with extreme difficulty. 

_ This isn’t about me. _

“Is it not?” Jeno immediately asks back, springing up to his feet like he was having a conversation with a Jisung that was in the same room as him. “Because for me, it has always been. Why does it seem like you care less about  _ your _ death than I do?”

Jeno winces at his own wording, finding a pain so sharp that it stings his chest, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he started bleeding from his chest altogether soon. 

_ Obsessed with me much? _

“You’re  _ dead _ ,” Jeno repeats, feeling the familiar sting of tears prick at his eyes, the sting that’s shown itself at least once a day for the past two, almost three, months. He’s so used to it, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t exhausted by them. He’s tired of reliving all the memories which make him want to rip out his own brain, just so that he won’t be able to think about these things anymore. “And you don’t think that’s a problem?”

_ Why would I think it’s a problem? I’m dead, I barely think. _

Jeno’s eyes squeeze shut, the words too  _ true,  _ too  _ raw,  _ too  _ much  _ for him right now. 

He thinks they’ll always be too much. 

“Not now,” he mutters into the empty air, knowing very well that Jisung isn’t there to answer him. All Jisung does is listen. 

It’s too much of a stark contrast to the Jisung he knew, the one who would run his mouth off and have something to say all the time. The Jisung who would talk back like it was a second nature, and Jeno knows that deep down, despite how many times he told Jisung that his mouth would get him in trouble, it was second nature. 

Jisung didn’t stick around long enough to see his mouth get him in trouble. 

Jeno goes to his bedroom, not bothered enough to turn on the lights, or pick up the clothes he’s left on the floor from the night before when he was too tired to put them away. 

He slips into his unmade bed, burrowing into the blankets and pillows, finding some sort of tiny comfort which somewhat puts his mind and heart at ease. 

To Jeno, it was easy to sleep on his problems, to brush them away, to roll over them, and leave them for later. He doesn’t want to think about them, so he won’t. 

Jisung will stay dead for a while anyways, the problem wasn’t going to run away if he doesn’t deal with it soon. 

The problem will haunt him until he’s laying down in his own grave, he’s sure of it. 

Staring at his ceiling, Jeno is sure he’ll have more than enough time until he has to deal with the death of his best friend face first. 

But for now, he can close his eyes after setting his glasses away, and pretends like there isn’t a Christmas gift he had bought months in advance in fear of the gaming console selling out before he could purchase it. 

✿✿✿

It’s chilly and it’s November the next time Jeno drags himself out of his apartment, a coat zipped up around his frame and his hands covered in the black fabric of his gloves as his boots crunch against the dry leaves which have fallen onto the ground. 

The air is cold, almost unbearably so, and it bites his cheeks in the worst way. The wind feels like tiny shards of glass as it whips by his face, and it makes Jeno regret coming outside. 

Those feelings subside however, when he remembers that there are three flowers nestled in his left hand, the stems struggling to keep their form with the wind harassing them the way it is. Jeno would feel bad for the flowers if he hadn’t already killed them with a pair of scissors when he picked them. 

The flowers probably can’t feel anything anymore, anyways. 

“It’s  _ you _ ,” 

Jeno doesn’t pay attention to the conversation of stranger’s going on around him, not until he knows that whoever had just said that, had said it in relation to him. 

His eyebrows are furrowed as he turns around, but he wishes he didn’t when he sees who it is, calling for him and walking towards him. 

“Jaemin,” he says blankly, watching as Jaemin skips over with a smile on his face, and a box of… Black bean noodles? Was he going to have lunch somewhere? But where would he be going in the cold weather?

“Hi,” he smiles, looking between Jeno’s face and the flowers in his hand. He also looks at the stairway they’re standing at the top of, and then back at Jeno. “Are you going to visit Jisungie? I went yesterday.”

Jeno dismisses the former part of Jaemin’s question, too taken aback by what Jaemin had said after. 

He narrows his eyes as he watches Jaemin walk down the stairs, his questions not answered, so he follows him down into the subway station as well. Jaemin, unlike Jeno, doesn’t seem bothered at all by what he said, and it only confuses Jeno more. 

“You went to see Jisung?” Jeno asks, walking a bit faster to keep up. Jaemin’s legs are long, but Jeno’s reactions are also delayed, but when he finally catches up to him, he’s simply waiting for the train like everyone else. 

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers easily. “I’ve been bringing him flowers, because I don’t know what he likes. Can you tell me?”

No, Jeno doesn’t want to tell him, Jeno doesn’t even know why Jaemin visits Jisung. Jaemin doesn’t know Jisung, he doesn’t know what to talk about, he  _ just  _ said he doesn’t know what Jisung likes. 

So what business does he have going over?

“No, I can’t tell you what he likes,” Jeno bites back, but Jaemin doesn't have a reaction from it, and Jeno isn’t terribly surprised by that. “You didn’t even know him, you can’t visit him.”

Jaemin just tilts his head to the side, finally looking at Jeno again. 

“I’m always there anyways,” he starts quietly. “And I never saw you again. Jisung gets lonely, you know? It’s not nice to leave them alone for so long.”

“You? Why are you always there?” Jeno is still immensely confused, especially because Jaemin seems to be coming from the same place he is; the cemetery isn’t too close from where they are. It isn’t feasible to go everyday. 

“You know,” Jaemin starts, smiling at the train when the lights come in and the sound is loud. “There are a lot of people at the cemetery,” he hums, and when the train stops in front of them and the doors open, Jaemin doesn’t wait for Jeno as he makes his way inside. Jeno follows just to get answers. 

“I know that,” Jeno snarks back, following Jaemin and standing in front of where he was sitting, to let him know that the conversation is not over. 

“I’m sure you do,” Jaemin nods, looking up at him. “Know that, and a lot of other things. So tell me, what does Jisung like?”

Jeno doesn’t answer him, and it seems like it doesn’t bother Jaemin at all. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who cares what others think of him, and if it were anyone else, Jeno would find the personality refreshing. But since it’s Jaemin, he’s only more than a bit irritated. 

Silence passes between the two of them as they ride the train, and Jeno keeps a watchful eye on the stations they’re passing by, while also keeping his ears open for the names. 

Eventually, the train stops and Jaemin gets up from his seat, the same container of black bean noodles in his hand, and Jeno only now notices that he isn’t wearing any gloves. 

When Jeno takes a closer look as they get off of the train, he notices that Jaemin isn’t even wearing that thick of a coat. He wonders if Jaemin is cold, or if he’s immune to the chilly air. He doesn’t ask though, because at the end of the day, he isn’t that curious.

“Jeno,” he says out of the blue, but Jaemin doesn’t even flinch at the abrupt name. All he does is hum, and take a turn down a road where at the end, the gate to the cemetery is. “Jisung likes Jeno.”

“Jeno,” Jaemin repeats. “Who’s Jeno?”

Jeno realizes then, that he’s never told Jaemin his name. 

Jeno wouldn’t buy tea for someone he didn't know, but then again, he wouldn’t do a lot of the things Jaemin has done. 

“I’m Jeno,” he answers, slowing his steps down when they make it to the gate of the cemetery. He hates walking in, because it’s always like a fresh slap in the face. And it stings even more, in the cold of today. 

“I’m Jaemin,” Jaemin says back, for a reason Jeno is unsure of. He had already introduced himself, all those days ago. 

But Jeno doesn’t get a chance to ponder over Jaemin’s strange answer for any longer, Jaemin taking a left turn through the gates of the graveyard instead of right, where Jisung’s stone is. 

Suddenly, Jeno understands why Jaemin spends a lot of time here. Why Jaemin said he was here yesterday. The forlorn look on Donghyuck’s face the first time they met. 

But still, he doesn’t understand the black bean noodles in Jaemin’s hands. 

“Who is it?” Jeno asks, unable to help himself, especially not when he feels a wave of immense guilt crash over him. 

Jeno is not the only one in the world who’s had a loved one pass, and he isn’t the first, nor is he the last. 

Jeno is not the only one who’s world has been flipped upside down because someone has left his life forever. 

Everyone grieves differently. 

And Jaemin is so  _ different,  _ that Jeno should’ve pieced it together earlier. 

“Huang Renjun,” Jaemin says after a while, a soft smile still on his face, nose red, lips chapped, and hair windswept. But he looks happy when he says the name, and it makes Jeno wonder who Huang Renjun is. 

Jaemin shakes the container or black bean noodles in his hands a little. 

“Renjun likes to watch mukbang with me.” 

✿✿✿

_ Good morning.  _

“Shut up.”

_ Oh, now you want me gone. _

“Park, watch your mouth.”

Jeno doesn’t hear anything after, so he guesses Jisung really had watched his mouth. But he doesn’t know if he prefers that, being left in silence as he cuts potatoes in his kitchen. He wants to make soup, because November is cold, and the heating is being fixed in his apartment. 

Jeno doesn’t like potato soup too much, but he doesn’t have anything else to use. He prefers seaweed soup, but he didn’t want to go to the grocery store right now. He doesn’t think he wants to for the rest of winter, but how irrational was that? Terribly irrational. 

Jeno tries to think about if he can even finish all the soup he’s making, the recipe calling for more servings than people who will be eating. He contemplates asking one of his friends to come over and eat lunch with him, but then he realizes that he hadn’t spoken to Mark and Chenle in a really long time.

Too long perhaps, for people he considers friends. 

He thinks the last time he even saw them was at Jisung’s funeral, in late August. 

Jeno wants to see them, more than anything, he really does. 

He misses eating meals together with people, he misses drinking late into the night and feeling it all the next morning, he misses the laughter which used to fill his apartment and make everyone’s ribs hurt from laughing too much. 

But as much as he misses everything that was once normal, he also knows that it won’t be the same. And if anything, asking to have a meal, asking to drink the night away, asking to laugh until they got cramps, would just punch everyone in the gut. 

Because the meals won't taste the same, when Jisung wasn’t there to rave about how tasty it was. 

Because the drinks won’t pass down their throats easily, when Jisung wasn’t there making sounds and complaining about the burn. 

Because their laughs will ring hollow, when there wasn’t a fourth one to fill the void. 

And if Jeno isn’t ready to face all of that, he knows that Mark and Chenle can’t possibly be either. 

Even after all these months spent apart, Jeno still knows his friends like the back of his hand. 

Jeno’s potato soup turns out okay, tasty enough to finish and be satisfied. The rest is kept in a bowl and left to cool on the counter before he stores it away in the fridge. 

But then, there’s nothing to do. 

There’s no phone to call, there’s no house to go to, there’s no spontaneous outing to plan. 

And it starts to give him a headache. Jeno wants to know when things will go back to normal. Or if things will ever be normal. 

Does normal even ever exist, after something like this? Or will he have to make a new normal? 

Can he go back to his old life, can he go back to his own routine? 

The presence of one person in the world doesn’t amount to much. One person won’t flip the world upside down. 

But Jisung’s presence, or lack of presence, in Jeno's life is enough to throw his whole word off of its axis. 

Jeno’s own two feet can’t find the ground anymore, and as he’s tossing and turning around twenty-four hours a day, he wonders if Jisung will be gracious enough to help make the pain stop soon. 

✿✿✿

“Jaemin…”

“Hi Donghyuck,” Jaemin smiles, walking through the door Donghyuck holds open, letting him sit in the staff room. It’s quiet, but it’s warm, and it makes his fingers and toes buzz with the contrast of temperatures. “It’s really warm in here.”

“Yeah it is Jaem, is it too hot for you?” he asks nicely, tying an apron around his waist and walking over to the thermostat. 

“No, it’s okay,” Jaemin assures honestly, sitting up with his back straight and looking around the room. It doesn’t matter if he’s seen it a million times before, because Jaemin tries to imprint it into his memory every single time. 

Donghyuck walks away from the thermostat at his answer, and he walks past Jaemin too. He goes to the huge walk in freezer to grab something, and Jaemin is confused about what he’s doing. 

“Is that a muffin?” Jaemin asks when Donghyuck is close enough, watching Donghyuck wrap the supposed muffin in a thin cloth. “Can I eat it?”

“This one isn’t for you to eat,” Donghyuck sighs, holding the frozen muffin up to Jaemin’s eyes. “You’re swollen. You’ve been crying. Did you go today?” 

“Hyuckie, I go everyday,” Jaemin answers, and his own hand comes up to hold the muffin there instead of Donghyuck doing it. “He’s all alone.”

“Renjun likes being alone,” Donghyuck says softly, and ah, how could Jaemin forget?

Renjun would always relish in the quiet whenever it presented itself, and he’d spend hours drawing or reading in the silence. Sometimes, he’d even just sit down with a mug of tea and enjoy how nothing was going on around them. 

But the one common thing between all of that was… 

“He likes being alone with me,” Jaemin whispers, leaning back onto the cushions of the couch with the muffin to his eye. He doesn’t know what type of muffin it is, but he wished he did. 

“Jaemin—”

“Can you please stop looking at me like that, Donghyuck?” 

Donghyuck snaps his mouth shut immediately, looking a little apologetic. 

“Nana, you know it’s not like that,” Donghyuck says softly instead, schooling his face into something he knows Jaemin won’t mind seeing. “I love you Jaemin.”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything, but he does nod his head stiffly. It feels like a cotton ball has been lodged into his throat, something which makes it hard to swallow. He manages to anyways, and it kind of reminds him of the first time he made meatballs. They were incredibly hard to swallow. 

Donghyuck lets him sit in silence until his break is over; where he leaves Jaemin with a squeeze on his shoulders as he get swamped with actual work. 

Jaemin always forgets this isn’t Donghyuck’s living room, or even his own. He finds himself spending more hours of the day than he’s willing to admit holed up in the staff room for the café Donghyuck works at, to the point where what thinks taking up permanent residence wouldn’t be such a bad idea. 

He can pay rent. 

Jaemin’s muffin thaws completely an hour into Donghyuck’s shift, an hour since he’s been alone to his own devices. He looks at it, and is very tempted. He can tell there’s blueberries in the muffin, and when he takes a sniff, there are traces of vanilla.

Jaemin is pretty sure you weren’t supposed to eat the muffins like that, that they were supposed to go into the oven to bake before being served. But Jaemin was alone, Donghyuck was busy actually doing something with his life, and Jaemin doesn’t want to get up and use the oven.

So he unwraps the muffin from the plastic saran wrap it’s in, and bites into it. It’s cold, but soft, and it tastes like blueberries and vanilla.

Jaemin decides there’s no harm in finishing the entire thing, since no one was there and since he doesn’t know when he’ll be able to eat something next. 

It doesn’t take long, and when he’s done he’s rather parched. Water would wash down his throat nicely, but when he gets up to look for something, he thinks orange juice will also fare well. Jaemin gets sidetracked when he open the fridge though, and settles on lemonade to quench his thirst.

_ Sour.  _

“Reminds me of you.”

  
  
  


When Donghyuck gets off of his shift, he’s surprised to see that Jaemin is still there, waiting just where he had left him. 

The only difference is that he’s sleeping now, so Donghyuck is extra careful when manoeuvring around him and putting his apron away. His footsteps are light as he gathers his belongings, and while he would’ve given the world just for Jaemin to be able to sleep peacefully, they didn’t have the comfort of the staff room now that Donghyuck was off. 

“Jaemin,” he says quietly, hands finding their way to Jaemin’s shoulders and shaking slightly. “Wake up, we have to go home. You can stay with me tonight, let’s go.”

If Jaemin stays at the café a lot, then he stays at Donghyuck’s apartment equally as much. Every time he spares time in the staff room, he goes to Donghyuck’s later and crashes for the night. 

Jaemin wakes up after a few more nudges, and his stomach rumbles immediately. 

Donghyuck sighs, and then his eyes catch sight of the muffin wrapper. 

“Did you eat it?” he asks fondly, picking up the wrapper and going to throw it in the garbage. When he turns back to look at Jaemin, he looks a little sheepish, and very tired. 

“I was hungry,” he admits in a whisper, accepting Donghyuck’s two hands and letting the latter pull him up until he was standing on his two feet. “I’m still hungry.”

“Well, I’m gonna fix that,” Donghyuck states, bringing his bag over his shoulder and then linking his arm with Jaemin’s. They walk out of the staff room like that, where Donghyuck waves goodbye to a couple coworkers before the exit the shop altogether. “Tomato soup.”

“Tomato soup,” Jaemin repeats, looking up at the sky with his head tilted at an angle which makes his eyes water. The cold is insufferable, nearing the beginning of December and covering the trees in dew and temperatures so low, that a thin layer of ice forms. “How did you know I like tomato soup?”

Donghyuck always likes to entertain Jaemin’s questions, even if he’s answered them a million times before, or if Jaemin asks like he’s genuinely curious. 

“I know everything about you, Nana,” he answers with a smile, huffing out a puff of air so that his breath condenses into fog the way he knows Jaemin likes. Winter isn’t particularly Jaemin’s favourite season, but it’s bearable with the little things he finds interest in. 

“You’re very smart then,” Jaemin hums, and there’s a little skip in his step now. 

Donghyuck smiles as they walk to his apartment, and he keeps on the same smile as he and Jaemin change into comfier clothes, keeps on the same smile as he makes tomato soup, and keeps on the same smile as he watches Jaemin make grilled cheese. 

Tiny things like this, that Jaemin does, makes Donghyuck think back to when moving around the kitchen wasn’t a burden for him. Or when making a meal didn't tax him off for the day. It’s a nice memory, one Donghyuck hopes can come back into reality very soon.

Donghyuck may miss Renjun until the day he dies, but he doesn’t want to miss Jaemin when the latter is right in front of him, always next to him, and constantly in contact with him. 

Donghyuck doesn’t know what he’ll do if he’s to watch Jaemin slip away the way Renjun had been taken from them so unfairly. 

“You’re really good at cooking,” Donghyuck comments when Jaemin plates their sandwiches. He noticed that Jaemin puts the one that’s a little burnt on his own plate, and leaves Donghyuck with the one that’s not as dark. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles, bringing their food to the table where Donghyuck waits with their soup. “Thank you for feeding me.”

Donghyuck laughs a little, but knows that Jaemin really means it. He’s been relying on Donghyuck a lot as of lately, and as much as it is stranger to him, he doesn’t push Jaemin away. Donghyuck would rather take care of him more than he needs to than watch what happens if he doesn’t. 

Jaemin is slowly getting better anyways. 

“Will you come home with me tomorrow?” Jaemin asks halfway through their meal, to which Donghyuck nods immediately. “I just don’t like taking the train alone.”

_ Aw, babe you do that for me though! _

“You’re different and you know it,”

Donghyuck tries not to let his frown show as Jaemin answers back to something he clearly had not said, and nods his head instead. 

He didn’t say Jaemin was getting better quickly. 

✿✿✿

When the first snowfall of the season hits, Jeno doesn’t leave his apartment for a week straight. 

While always hating the snow and how it got his socks wet no matter how tight he tied his boots or how big they were, Jeno has grown extremely distasteful of the winter months. 

That much stays true even as he cranks the heater up, pulls wool socks over his feet, and has a blanket around his shoulders at all times. He’s off for Christmas break currently, using up his vacation days until the end of the year because he didn’t want them to go to waste. And because leaving for the outside world seems like hell, so Jeno will stave is off until he absolutely needs to. 

He hasn’t visited Jisung in two and a half weeks either, and he’s stopped hearing his voice every corner he turns. Jeno doesn’t know if he likes that or not, but at least he isn’t driven to the brink of insanity because he can’t hear the familiar timbre. 

Jeno can think of worse things, honestly. 

Like maybe the Hallmark Christmas movie he’s watching, or the sad excuse of sweet and salty popcorn he tried to make. 

Jeno doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore to be honest, it’s getting harder and harder to fill the gaps of time with something to do. There’s only so much television he can watch, and only so many recipes he can butcher before his spirits dwindle down.

Like right now, for example. 

The movie credits come scrolling onto the screen, and Jeno takes this as his cue to turn the television off. His eyes hurt a little from watching for hours on end, and he hopes his vision isn’t getting worse. Though as he rubs his eyes to get rid of the irritation, he knows he’s wrong. 

Jeno sighs as he gets up from his couch and puts his dishes away, mustering up to spirits to wash the dishes, and even dry them before them away where they rightfully belong. 

It would be a lie to say things have been weighing him down as much as they used to.

He thought maybe the colder months and the seasonal depression would kick in like it normally does, but Jeno finds it hard to let the earth drag him down when he looks out the window and reminisces every stupid thing he and Jisung have done in the snow.

You’d think that those thoughts would make him want to cower into a burrow and rot until the snow stopped, but it does the opposite, much to his own surprise as well. 

Jeno finds that thinking about Jisung and the happier memories spent together, during the times where Jeno didn't have an inkling of what was really going on in Jisung’s big head, he feels rather relaxed, and overall, very bittersweet. 

Maybe that’s what moving on feels like. And it’s a scary thought, for Jeno thinks he’ll never hear Jisung’s voice again, but it also lifts a weight off of his chest.

Maybe he was finally letting go, and letting the guilt go with him… 

… How foolish.

There’s someone who rings his doorbell right then, and Jeno is a bit grateful for the distraction. The mind was dangerous, and he doesn’t know where his mind would be headed towards if he had time alone with his thoughts. 

Jeno looks through the peephole to see who rang his bell, and feels his eyebrows furrowing when it makes it out to be Mark standing on the outside. 

He’s too shocked to even deliberate leaving the door unanswered, it wouldn’t be hard to convince Mark that no one was home. But for some reason, his hand goes to unlock the door anyways, hearing the latch click and the sound of Mark’s impatient foot tapping dying down when he opens the door all the way. 

There are only a few seconds of awkward silence between the two of them as they stare at each other, but Mark is the first one to break it. 

“Hey,” he says, sounding a little breathless, almost like he was surprised to actually see Jeno in front of him. Jeno guesses he can understand that feeling, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit short of breath himself right now too. “Can I come in?”

And it’s a weird question to ask, because Mark never asks if he can come in. He doesn’t  _ need  _ to ask, it’s Mark. He’s always welcome, and he’s always taken Jeno up on his invitations without having to have asked twice. 

But now, he’s tentative, and Jeno wonders if he thinks things have changed in the three and a half months they’ve spent apart.

Of course things have, but he doesn’t think he’s realized just what those things are until right now. This is more than just Jisung, this is the rift between all the relationships Jeno has with the people in his life. 

Well, he better start somewhere, shouldn’t he?

“Of course,” he finally says to Mark, stepping aside and letting the older boy walk into his apartment. By Mark’s careful steps, Jeno knows he feels like a foreigner here. Which couldn’t be farther from the truth, but he guesses that’s what being apart for so long does to you. “I have some popcorn… Can’t promise it’s good,” he offers sheepishly, but Mark doesn’t even spare a glance at the bowl in Jeno’s outstretched hand.

“I miss you,” he says instead, and ah, they were getting right into it, were they. 

Well, Jeno figured that much.

“I miss you too,” he sighs, putting the bowl down and wracking his brain to remember how he used to have natural conversations with Mark. Even having to think about this makes him feel guilty, but he doesn’t think Mark is doing any better. Maybe they’ve all let go for a while, after everything that’s happened. 

“It’s really good seeing you,” Mark continues, and when Jeno looks up to see his face, he’s taken aback by the stubble. Mark usually never keeps it around. “Disappointedly, you look the same.”

A grin forms on Jeno’s face before he even realizes it, and it feels like he’s just rewinded to six months ago, when nothing was this heavy, taxing, or difficult. They were carefree back then, all of them. 

“Well you’ve gotten older,” Jeno retorts, and like he expected, in a way that gives him way too much comfort, Mark’s lips stretch into a smile. 

It’s been a very long time, since he’s seen his friends smile. They didn’t really have reasons too, as of lately. 

“Mark…” Jeno starts, and suddenly the lightheartedness of the situation is short-lived. But Jeno can’t help it, the last time he saw Mark was in August. It’s been too long without talking to him, and he has questions which are begging to find their answers. “Do you visit?”

“I try to go once a week,” Mark answers in a low voice, and the heaviness of their topic of discussion drops onto their shoulders once more. “There are always flowers there. Yours?”

Jeno nods, and leans against the counter, suddenly needing the extra support. 

“Every few days,” Jeno says, answering the unasked questions. It’s easier to meet Mark’s eyes than he thought it’d be, and it makes him let out a breath. “Have you spoken to Chenle?” 

“I actually visited him a few days ago,” Mark says, perking up just the tiniest bit at the mention of their friend. “He’s… Well, he’s Chenle, isn't he?” he finishes with a quirk of his lips, and Jeno knows he just doesn’t know what to say. Jeno is glad he can still pick up on these mannerisms, no matter how long they’ve gone without talking to each other. It doesn’t feel like much has changed, but Jeno knows that it’s inside their heads where everything is chaos. 

“Yeah. He’s Chenle.” 

  
  
  


Jeno always puts up a mini Christmas tree, something small since he didn’t believe he needed bigger when it was just him in his apartment. He still does decorate it though, and this year he put a little photo frame ornament of the two of them that Jisung had gifted him a couple Christmases ago, as the star on top of his little tree. 

It sits pretty on top, and somehow, Jeno smiles at it every time he walks by. 

Perhaps that’s a good thing? 

He sure hopes so, at least. 

Today when Jeno walks by his little Christmas tree, it’s 7:30pm. He’s dressed up in jeans for the first time in a while, even pulling out a nice looking coat he hasn’t worn too often. There’s a scarf around his neck, a hat to cover his ears, and black gloves covering his hands as he grabs his keys and wallet. 

When Jeno is finished tying his boots,  _ tight _ , he takes a deep breath and opens his door to leave.

For the first time in a very long time, Jeno is going to hang out with his friends. 

It feels more nerve wracking than it should, but Jeno believes a large part of his nerves will disappear once he’s in the presence of his friends. 

He’s reminded of just why he’s so adamant on staying inside during the winter when he steps out of his building, the cold air immediately seeping into his bones, and the snowflakes falling from the sky collecting onto the fabric of his hat. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to be out in the open for too long, already seeing Mark’s car parked and waiting for him. 

Like he assumed, Chenle was already occupying the front passenger’s seat, so Jeno more than begrudgingly got into the back. The front seats were the ones with seat warmers. 

“Hey,” Mark greets first when the door opens, and Jeno is glad to feel that the heater is already on full blast. He’s only been outside for a minute, maximum, but his nose still stings from the cold. His toes and fingers are beginning to feel it too. 

“Hello,” he says back as he puts on his seatbelt. He pulls off his hat after too, and lets us lay uselessly onto the seat next to him. Then, he turns to his right and faces someone he hasn’t seen in months. “Hi, Chenle.” 

Chenle’s lips quirk up, and Jeno can see even the tiniest bit of happiness in his eyes. It’s hard to show that nowadays, so Jeno takes what he can get. 

“Hi hyung,” Chenle greets back, humming and letting his little quirk turn into a full fledged smile. Jeno didn’t know how much he missed seeing it until it’s right in front of him, blinding him. “How’ve you been?”

He’s afraid all three of them know the answer to that, but he lies through his teeth anyways, and is glad when no one says anything and pretends like it was a normal answer, in a normal circumstance. 

“I’ve been alright. Glad to see you again.”

Conversation continues like that on their drive to where Mark is taking them, Jeno isn’t too sure yet, he hasn’t said exactly where, and it was too dark to make out the direction they were headed in. 

Just like Jeno predicated, his nerves wash away and it’s easy to be in the presence of Mark and Chenle again. Even if Chenle doesn’t laugh like how he used to, or if the empty spot in the back seat is glaringly obvious, no one says anything about it. Instead, Mark fills the pauses of silence with easy questions which lead to other conversations, and Jeno finds that he really has missed this. 

Falling back into routine with his friends is easy, and he’s grateful. He doesn’t know how different things would’ve been if he had kept to himself for longer. 

Peacefulness was appreciated, but there was always a time when the peacefulness became too much, and the sound of one’s own breathing would be the thing to kill them. 

Mark pulls up into a parking lot, and it’s only then that he tells Chenle and Jeno what he had planned for their night out. 

“I come here sometimes,” he starts, taking his seatbelt off and facing the two of them. “I had a lot of free time suddenly, so I come here a lot to busk or whatever,” he continues, and there’s a semblance of shyness in his tone, something which makes Jeno roll his eyes fondly. 

Mark had always had a knack for music, but it was just that: a knack. A passionate hobby. Jeno is glad he’s at least keeping himself busy the way he likes.

“The person who manages the guests,” he adds on, throwing a spare glance to what Jeno now realizes is a café. “He likes the audience I attract, so he gives me weekly gigs. It’s nice. I thought we could hang out tonight since I have a gig tonight.” 

“Sounds great,” Chenle immediately says after Mark is done talking, unbuckling his own seatbelt and putting his hat back onto his head. There’s a grey pom pom on the top of his navy tuque, and it makes Jeno giggle. “Are you playing guitar?”

“Yeah, it’s in the trunk,” Mark says as he steps out of the car, and Jeno assumes he’s heading to the back to retrieve his instrument. 

He’s proven correct when a blast of frigid cold air hits the back of his head, and he shudders as he hurriedly puts his own hat on and pulls his gloves over his fingers again. 

He’s going to convince Mark and Chenle to hang out at his place next time, he doesn’t believe he’ll be going out again until after the new year, unless it was absolutely mandatory. 

All three of them trot into the café soon enough, and Jeno is just glad that the warm air blasts them in the face. When they’ve finally found a booth to settle into, and have slowly taken off all their bulky outerwear, Jeno finds that the café looks very familiar. 

His eyebrows furrow as Mark says he’s going into the back to meet with the person who manages his gigs, and as Chenle looks through the menu. The ceilings look familiar, and the seat feels like something he’s sat on before. They both sound vague, but he knows a familiar space when he’s in one. 

“They have that tea that you really like,” Chenle pipes up, effectively ripping Jeno’s eyes away from the packets of sugar he’s been staring at too intensely. “Are you gonna get it?”

“Probably,” he answers mindlessly, eyes lazily sanning over the menu when Chenle passes it to him. Maybe he’ll also get a blueberry vanilla muffin, it sounds promising. “What’re you getting?” 

“Jasmine tea, maybe a croissant,” he says with a shrug, looking around the café. He sees a little ghost of a smile come onto his face, and it makes Jeno think about what Chenle is thinking about. “It’s really nice here.”

Jeno only then notices the ambiance created in the café. 

The light is warm, and the smell of pastries makes the atmosphere cozy. There are Christmas decorations strung up, tinsels stuck onto the window, reefs on the bathroom and main doors, and a large, dressed Christmas tree in the corner. Next to the tree, Jeno sees a few couches, and a tall stool with a microphone stand in front of it. 

He guesses that’s where the performer’s sit, judging also by the stereo sitting in the back somewhere.

Despite noticing all of these new things, Jeno realizes that he  _ has  _ in fact been here before. 

This is the café Jaemin took him to two months ago. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, voice equally as quiet, in a whisper. He meets Chenle’s eyes again, and they both smile softly. “It is nice in here.”

Mark comes back not too long after that, and Jeno is surprised by who he brings in tow. 

Though, he guesses he shouldn’t be, he does remember a little, after all. 

“Guys, this is Donghyuck,” Mark introduces, and when Jeno catches his eyes, he sees recognition wash over Donghyuck’s face as well. “He sings with me sometimes, and he’s gonna sing tonight too.”

Jeno didn’t know that Donghyuck sings, but he also doesn’t know more to Donghyuck than just his name. 

“Nice to meet you,” Chenle says, and Jeno can hear him try to sound bright. He wonders if Mark can hear that too. “Thanks for keeping Mark entertained.”

Donghyuck chuckles, and Jeno thinks that the look he sends Mark is too warm. But he’s not one to ask, so he simply tucks the information into the back of his mind. 

“Well, he keeps me fairly entertained too,” Donghyuck says happily, and then he finally turns to look completely at Jeno. “It’s good seeing you again. Jeno, right?” 

The way Donghyuck asks, Jeno can’t help but feel like a lot has passed since the last time they’ve talked. And that makes sense, it’s been well over two months, a lot has changed in Jeno’s life too. But Donghyuck looks… Healthier, if Jeno was allowed to say that. There’s a glow to his now full cheeks, and his hair has gotten longer. It doesn’t look like he’s interested in cutting it though, and he wonders if Donghyuck will grow it out long enough to pull into a ponytail. 

“Yeah. Nice seeing you Donghyuck.”

Jeno can feel more than he sees the curious and confused looks both Mark and Chenle send to him, but he doesn’t have time to focus on that before Donghyuck is speaking again. 

“Jaemin should come out of the staff room soon, is it alright if he sits with you? He’ll like a familiar face,” Donghyuck asks, and he doesn’t know if Mark and Chenle are able to pick up on it, but Donghyuck sounds anxious as he asks. He doesn’t know if he’s anxious himself, anxious for Jaemin, or anxious for the answer. 

“Jaemin,” Jeno repeats, like the name was foreign on his tongue. And it kind of was, a stranger who you’ve met only twice, even if they bought you tea one of those two times. But Jaemin wasn’t any harm, as odd as he was. And maybe he wasn’t even odd in the first place, and Jeno was just really narrow-minded. Either way, he already knows his answer, even if half of it is just to be nice in front of Donghyuck. Jaemin was his best friend, after all. “Yeah sure, of course.”

Donghyuck looks equal parts relieved and thankful at his answer, and his shoulders relax a little as the grin that was previously on his face returns. 

“Thank you Jeno, what could I get you guys today?” 

Donghyuck proceeds to take their orders and then walks into the kitchen, and Jeno must’ve forgotten how much his friends were gossipers. The second Donghyuck is out of earshot, Mark shoves into the booth next to Chenle and looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed. 

“How do you know Donghyuck?” he asks, just as Chenle follows with,

“And who’s Jaemin?” 

“First of all, he’d be Jaemin  _ hyung  _ to you,” Jeno sighs to Chenle. Then he turns to Mark, and thinks about how to explain this without bringing the mood down. He chooses his words carefully. “Jaemin is just someone I bumped into a few months ago. He brought me here, bought me tea, and introduced Donghyuck to me since he was working. They’re best friends. It was whatever.”

Jeno purposefully doesn’t tell them about the second time he had bumped into Jaemin, finding that he didn’t want to bring up the topic they were trying to move on from in the first place. That would have been redundant, wouldn’t it have been?

But just because that's how he thinks, doesn’t mean that’s how the other two think. Specifically Mark. 

“Oh… Jaemin’s his best friend?” he asks, and his tone sounds heavy, like he knows something that they don't. And by the look on his face, he definitely does. Jeno doesn’t think he’s going to tell them, but then his mouth opens again, and Jeno is proven wrong. “After I told Donghyuck about Jisung, he said that his good friend passed away in August as well. I think Renjun was his name? Donghyuck said Renjun was dating his best friend.” 

A silence falls over their table, the only sounds being the white noise of the other patrons speaking and laughing. 

The pieces come together in Jeno’s mind after Mark’s words though, now knowing who Jaemin was visiting almost everyday, if not everyday, and he feels an ugly feeling settle low in his stomach. 

That was Jaemin’s  _ boyfriend.  _ Huang Renjun was his boyfriend, and now he’s dead. 

“Yeah… I actually met Jaemin at the cemetery,” Jeno says, not sure why he does. “But he never told me who he was visiting.

Mark looks like he’s going to say something more, but doesn’t get the chance to when someone calls Jeno’s name and footsteps near their table. Despite it being months, he already knows who’s calling his name without having to think twice about it. 

“You’re here again,” Jaemin smiles, and while Jeno had said that Donghyuck had been looking better, he couldn’t say the same for Jaemin. Not that he’s in a place to, but sometimes he can’t help his thoughts. “Did you get that tea again? You said you’d get it when it was colder.”

Wordlessly, because he’s a bit surprised Jaemin would remember something like that, Jeno simply nods at the question. He also scooches over and more into the booth when he realizes that Mark and Chenle are occupying the either side, so Jaemin would have to sit with him. 

Not that he necessarily minds. It makes sense too, he was the only one who knew Jaemin even the tiniest bit better. 

He can tell that the air is a little tense because of what they were talking about before Jaemin had come over, but he doesn’t think Jaemin himself picks up on it. He guesses that’s for the better though. 

“I’m Jaemin,” he introduces, now looking directly at Mark and Chenle. 

“My name is Chenle,” Chenle introduces back politely, but Jeno can tell he’s still a bit wary of Jaemin. 

"I’m Mark,” Mark says, and Jeno thinks he sees Jaemin’s lip twitch. 

“I know who you are,” Jaemin says softly, and Jeno doesn’t know if he should be surprised or not when Jaemin grabs a packet of sugar and starts fiddling with it. “Hyuckie talks about you sometimes.”

Jeno knows he definitely isn’t imagining it when he sees Mark’s cheeks redden a little, and he’s now more than a little curious about if all Donghyuck really does is manage Mark’s weekly gigs. 

“What does he say?” Mark asks, and Jeno wants to roll his eyes. He holds his urge in though, because he shouldn’t be too surprised. It’s been a really long time, since Mark has shown a little bit of interest in someone. He wasn’t going to rain on Mark’s parade. 

“He says you're clumsy,” Jaemin answers innocently, honestly and like he didn’t think Mark would take offense to what he said. But by the taken aback look on Mark’s face, Jeno can tell that he is. “And that you smell like coconuts.”

Chenle laughs a little at this, and Mark reddens once more. Jeno just wants to know when Mark started smelling like coconuts. Last time he checked, Mark smelled a lot like citrus. 

“What do you do, Jaemin?” Chenle asks when his laughter had died down. “Are you Jeno hyung’s age?” 

“Yes,” Jaemin nods, and now he tears the sugar packet open and pours it directly into his mouth. Jeno would be surprised if he hadn’t seen Jaemin pour copious amounts of sugar into his coffee last time. “I’m still in my last year of school. I took a gap year. You?”

“Me too,” Chenle says back. “These two are done,” he nudges his head towards Mark and Jeno as he says this. “Boring people with boring jobs,” he adds, just for the hell of it, and just to poke fun at him and Mark. 

For today, Jeno brushes it off. 

“Here you go,” Donghyuck’s voice comes, walking back to their table with drinks in hand. He has four, and while Jeno knew that Donghyuck would know what Jaemin would like, he’s surprised when he places a drink in front of Mark. His curiosity to know what their relationship really is itching. “Should we set up?” he asks as he turns to Mark, and the latter nods, bringing his cup with him as he follows Donghyuck into the staff room.

This earns strange looks from Chenle and Jeno, something Jaemin notices and addresses himself. 

“They always do that,” he says, like it was nothing new. And apparently for Jaemin, it wasn’t. “I don’t think Mark notices that I’m there, but they always have a little… Chat before they perform together.”

Jaemin is pouring sugar into his coffee, and Jeno nudges the tray of packets closer to Jaemin. He knows he won’t simply add one. 

“Thank you,” he says politely, and then looks back up at Chenle. “Are you a friend of Jisung’s too?” 

Jeno internally winces when he sees Chenle freeze, and has a moment where he wants to be mad at Jaemin for asking. But maybe he should’ve warned Chenle about this, about how he’s always asking whatever questions come to mind, filter be damned. 

Chenle throws Jeno a look which Jeno can’t decipher, but he decides to answer Jaemin anyway. 

“Yes,” he says quietly, taking a sip of his tea from the mug in front of him. Jaemin still hadn’t taken a sip of his drink, but he’s already on his third packet of sugar. “He was my…” he starts, and Jeno knows exactly what he was going to say. He wonders why Chenle would even tell Jaemin this, but he has a feeling it’s because he knows that Jaemin will be able to relate. Something Mark and Jeno couldn’t have done. “… My first love.”

Jaemin’s reaction is exactly what Jeno expected: not reacting the way anyone else would. 

He smiles at Chenle, but it isn't a full grin like usual. This time, it’s more subdued, and Jeno can tell it’s because Chenle has hit a nerve. 

Jaemin tears into a fourth sugar packet when he speaks. 

“Then to you, he’s not really dead,” he says casually, like he was simply talking about his Christmas plans and not something as morbid as this. Jeno will never get over Jaemin’s ability to remain calm in situations and conversations like these. 

“What?” Chenle gapes, very clearly taken aback. He might even be offended, but Jeno doesn’t look long enough to know for sure before he’s looking back at Jaemin.

“First loves live in your heart for the rest of your life,” he explains, finally stirring his coffee and dissolving all the sugar that has no doubt sunk to the bottom of the cup. “Even if he was alive, and you didn’t end up together, you’d remember Jisung for the rest of your life.”

Jaemin talks like he knows, which is why Jeno finds his question slipping out of his mouth before he can control himself and remind himself that it wasn’t any of his business. 

“Is Renjun still alive?”

Jaemin doesn’t stop stirring his coffee, but his movements do slow down. He turns his head to look at Jeno slowly, and when Jeno is looking at him like this, he gets a good look at his face. 

Jaemin’s eyes have bags under them, dark and prominent against his skin that’s almost a sickly pale. He wonders if his normal skin tone was this pale, or if it was a side effect of neglecting himself. Jeno’s own skin has been ghostly white at one point too. Jaemin’s hair also looks like it could be washed, sticking up in weird directions which he doesn’t bother to tame. His lips are chapped, and if Jeno is being honest, the only part of him that looks alive are his eyes, for some reason. They almost sparkle at his question. 

“No,” he answers, and his lips fall into a thin line right after. Jeno wonders if he’s finally made Jaemin anything other than his passive and calm self. He wonders if he’s made Jaemin mad. “Renjun is dead.”

Heavy silence drapes over their table, and Jeno almost feels bad for Chenle in this conversation, awkwardly sitting there and looking between the two, Jeno and Jaemin both equally as grim. 

“Well,” Jemin suddenly breathes out, shifting a bit in his seat and putting that smile back on his face. He turns to the side, until he’s looking at the Christmas tree. “Looks like Donghyuck and Mark are performing.”

The feedback from the microphone spills into the café right after Jaemin’s words, and although it isn’t a subject change, it does take all their minds off of what they were talking about. 

“Hello everyone,” Donghyuck’s voice greets, loud and just a little bit echoey throughout the café. “I see many of you have showed up tonight for Mark, despite the weather,” he teases, and even from where he’s sitting, Jeno can see Mark’s ears turn red. He’s not sure if it’s because of what Donghyuck said or Donghyuck himself. He’ll have to find out soon, the curiosity was going to make him go mad. 

“Mark always brings in a lot of people,” Jaemin comments, and Jeno isn’t sure if he intended for anyone to hear; his voice is terribly soft as he speaks. “I don't know if it’s because they like the way he looks or his music.”

Jeno purses his lips. 

“What do you like?” he finds himself asking, and he doesn’t get annoyed when Jaemin doesn’t even look at him as he answers. 

“I like both,” Jaemin admits, and Jeno finds that he can agree to that. It’s not like Mark was hard on the eyes anyways. 

Conversation is left at that though, and Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin are left to watch as Mark strums his guitar prettily, filling the café with a warm and sweet melody, and as Donghyuck’s equally as warm and soft voice accompanies the instrument. 

✿✿✿

“Do you wanna stay over?” 

Jaemin has heard this question many times before, and he feels a little tired of it. But he’d never tell Donghyuck that, because it wasn’t Donghyuck’s fault he felt like this. 

Maybe Jaemin was simply becoming more and more easily irritable. And that was his own problem. But he won’t deal with that now, that can always wait. What can’t wait though, is his bed. And all he wants to do is lie under the covers, so no, he doesn’t think he wants to stay over at Donghyuck’s place tonight. 

“No, it’s alright,” Jaemin says, smiling just to assure Donghyuck. It’s already fairly late into the night, Jaemin staying with Donghyuck as he closes up the café, wiping down tables and flipping the chairs over. “I’ll head home tonight.”

Donghyuck throws him a weary look, and Jaemin has half the mind to roll his eyes. But he doesn’t, because he knows that Donghyuck is only just concerned. He would be too, if Donghyuck ended up walking down the streets alone this late at night. 

But he’ll be alright, it’s not like it’s something he hasn’t done before. 

“If you’re sure,” Donghyuck ends up shrugging, but years of friendship let Jaemin know he’s thinking otherwise. But at this point, he’s just glad he doesn’t voice his thoughts, and let's Jaemin leave peacefully. 

It’s not everyday that things can be peaceful anymore, so he’s glad Donghyuck lets him have whatever pockets he can. 

“I’m always sure of myself,” Jaemin grins as he wraps his scarf around his neck, pulling his coat a bit tighter around himself. He watches Donghyuck who’s behind the counter, wiping down the surface and the registers. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon?” Donghyuck asks, looking at Jaemin confusedly. “Not tomorrow?” 

“No,” he answers softly, clearing his throat as he lets his smile slip off of his face momentarily. “Not tomorrow.”

Donghyuck seems to understand what Jaemin means despite him not saying anything at all, and he’s glad that Donghyuck can quite literally read his mind at times like this. 

“Bye Hyuckie,”

“… Bye, Nana…”

The sky is very dark when Jaemin steps foot outside, but the street lights and Christmas lights other businesses have lit up along the street make it feel more bright, and like it wasn’t almost 11:00pm at night. But he appreciates that, as well as the snow that starts falling from the sky. 

It’s soft, small, and white, little flakes which stick to his hand and make his nose so extremely cold. 

_ Catch some on your tongue.  _

“That’s what you used to do,” Jaemin mumbles, a small smile tugging on his lips. 

The streets are practically empty, save for a few cars driving by. But there aren’t many other people walking, and Jaemin briefly wonders if he’s about to get kidnapped. 

_ It’s my job to overthink. _

“Well, someone has to take over now, don’t they?”

_ You do this to yourself. I’d never ask you to overthink. _

“There’s a lot you’d never ask me to do,” Jaemin admits softly, kicking a small pile of snow which hasn’t solidified, and it sprinkles into the air before his eyes. It looks pretty, and he sees fog from his own mouth as he takes in the view. “That’s the only reason I haven’t done a lot of things.”

Jaemin doesn’t hear anything after that, so he tries to think about what other pretty lights there are on his walk home, instead of thinking about the voice of the person he wants to talk to him again. 

There were always a lot of things Jaemin knew he wasn’t going to get, and this is just one more he’s okay with adding to the list. Or maybe he isn’t okay with adding it yet, but he tells himself he is. That sounds more feasible, but he pushes the thought away altogether right after. 

He’s almost home anyways, and when his building comes into view, Jaemin is excited to be in the warmth again. 

Jaemin scans himself in the lobby, and then opts to take the stairs up so that he can work some feeling into his frozen legs. It works a little to get the blood flowing back regularly again, but Jaemin still feels winded when he finally reaches the fourth floor. 

The closer he gets to his apartment door, number 18, the clearer he sees someone standing by his door. He thinks he’s about to get kidnapped again ( _ I told you so _ ), but then he’s a few steps closer, and the back of the head he’s looking at it familiar. 

“Jungwoo hyung?” 

Jungwoo startles at his name being called, but turns around and calms down when he sees it’s just Jaemin. A smile stretches onto his face right after, and Jaemin thinks Jungwoo smiles like someone who will always be happy about something. A frown never suits his face. 

Jungwoo is his neighbour, and has been for the past two years. Jaemin had moved in only a month or two after Jungwoo had, and they had been friends ever since. Jungwoo lives two apartment doors down from him, but it’s always as if he can sense what Jaemin is feeling through all the walls between them. 

Sometimes, Jaemin appreciates a friend like Jungwoo. 

“Hello Jaeminnie,” Jungwoo greets, stepping a bit to the side so that Jaemin could unlock his door. “Late night?”

“Something like that,” Jaemin mumbles, opening his door and holding it for Jungwo, a silent invite to come in. And of course Jungwoo recognizes it, stepping into his apartment like it was second nature. He guesses it kind of is. “What’re you doing waiting for me so late? You should be asleep.” 

Jungwoo only hums as a response, and when Jaemin turns back around to face him after taking off his shoes and putting his keys down, he finally realizes that Junhwoo had been holding something in his hands the entire time. 

Jungwoo notices him looking, and once more, smiles before holding his arms out and handing Jaemin the item. 

“This is for you,” he says simply, waiting patiently for Jaemin’s hands to reach out and accept. “I wanted to give it to you right away.”

Jaemin keeps Jungwoo waiting though, because he’s having a hard time looking at what’s in front of him. Despite that though, he can’t stop looking at what’s in front of him. 

In Jungwoo’s hands, is a simple sweater, pastel blue in colour and big in size. 

But there’s something on the sleeve which catches Jaemin’s attention, something which makes the piece of clothing Jungwoo is holding more than just a hoodie. 

There’s a little embroidered design of a fox on the right hand sleeve, a little faded in colour and worn, but when Jaemin looks at it, he can remember buying the threads and needles because Renjun had asked him to. He can remember Renjun spending three days on the little patch, going slow and being cautious so that he could make it perfect. 

And it was perfect. 

It is perfect.

The little fox is so perfect. 

“I didn’t know you had it,” Jaemin says finally, and he doesn’t notice his hands shaking as he reaches for the sweater. Jungwoo does though, and simply holds Jaemin’s hands in his own. But Jaemin isn’t paying attention to that, too wrapped up in the simple sweater. “I didn’t even know I didn’t have it.”

“I was cleaning the guest room and I found this,” Jungwoo explains softly, leading them both to the couch because it looks like Jaemin needs to sit down. And he’s right, when Jaemin’s knees practically buckle and he lets the couch catch him. “Probably from a movie night.”

Jaemin nods. It probably was from a movie night, he’s right. Because he and Renjun would go and watch movies with Jungwoo every two weeks, and Jungwoo would pop some popcorn and Renjun would always bring his Chinese snacks to try, and Jungwoo would always surprise them by speaking practically fluent Chinese. 

"Hyung I think I’m going to go to bed,” Jaemin breathes out abruptly, and when Jungwoo looks down, Jaemin’s hands are squeezing the fabric of the sweater between his hands. Jungwoo doesn’t think Jaemin even knows he’s doing that. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem Jaeminnie. Let’s get you to bed,” he says, standing up and helping Jaemin stand up too. “Can I come over tomorrow? We can eat noodles.”

Jaemin knows that Jungwoo asks to come over just so that he can help Jaemin clean up his apartment, all the things he never has the capacity, be it physical or mental, to pick up. He’d be ashamed, only if he were having people over regularly now. But he wasn’t, so the mess was just for him to see, and he doesn’t care. 

_ So messy… How do you live? _

“It doesn’t matter,” Jaemin mumbles, and Jungwoo doesn’t even bat an eye at Jaemin talking to the silent air between them. He’s used to it. “Goodnight.”

He realizes he hasn’t answered Jungwoo’s question when he’s helped into his sleeping clothes, and he’s glad Jungwoo doesn’t say anything about it, or the way he slips Renjun’s sweater on as well. 

“Sure you can come over,” Jaemin whispers finally when Jungwoo has pulled the blankets up to his chest. “Please use the spare key. I’m not too sure when I will be awake.”

Jungwoo nods gently, and his smile is still soft as he brushes Jaemin’s hair out of his eyes. His eyes linger a little on the sweater, and the corner of his lips twitch downwards a little at the sight. Nonetheless, he smooths his hand down Jaemin’s hair and then lets it fall. 

“Okay,” he says, turning the lights off in the room and sending Jaemin one last look. “Goodnight Jaeminnie.”

Jungwoo doesn’t get an answer, but he doesn’t need one. He turns the lights off behind him as he leaves Jaemin’s apartment, and locks the front door using the spare key. 

When Jaemin hears Jungwoo lock his front door, he shifts around a little in bed trying to get comfortable. The darkness and silence is unwelcome, because there’s usually a soft light coming from a lamp, because there’s usually someone reading next to him into the early hours of the morning. 

There’s no sounds of someone breathing, and there’s no rustling next to him, and the sheets on the other half of the bed are cold. Jaemin curls in on himself to try and feel some of the warmth he’s been stripped of for months at this point, but it doesn’t work. 

And it never works, so he doesn’t know why he keeps trying. It hasn’t been working for months, and it wasn’t going to magically start working now. 

Jaemin feels restless when he finally stops moving, burrowing more into the fabric that he wishes would swallow him up. But it doesn’t, because Renjun was smaller than him, and this sweater is form fitting on him. 

Jaemin’s eyes focus on the patchwork of the fox in the dark, and he knows it’s just making his eyesight worse. But he doesn’t care, because the fox is cute. It’s so, so cute. 

_ You like it that much? _

“I like it so much,” Jaemin whispers, and he immediately feels choked up after the words leave his mouth. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the fox. “I like you so much.”

_ I know you do, dummy. I love you. _

“I love you too,” Jaemin says shakily, and his eyes slip closed, and his chest hurts so much, and he knows he’s about to start crying. “I miss you.”

Jaemin doesn’t hear a reply, so his cries fill the silence instead. 

✿✿✿

Jeno goes back the next week when Mark says he has another gig at the café. 

Not because he wants to, because God knows he didn’t want to step foot outside of his apartment, don’t get the wrong idea. It’s because Chenle, of all people, wants to go back, and it wasn’t even for Mark. Or the music, or the food, or the tea. 

Chenle wants to go back for  _ Jaemin.  _

“He has some really good advice!” Chenle insists as they find themselves in the same situation in Mark’s car as the week before, except this time Jeno gets to ride shotgun. “And it’s weird if I go alone, you’re like the common factor!”

Jeno only rolls his eyes, shooting a glare at Chenle through the rearview mirror. 

“He has terrible advice, you know that,” he says, and wishes Mark would say something. But he doesn’t, because he had left before Chenle and Jaemin had started bonding. “He’s not… doing well, and you know that,” he adds on, and regrets it only a bit when the atmosphere in the car turns sombre. 

“Not everyone can get over it easily,” Chenle finally says quietly, and while Jeno knows this, he doesn’t say anything at first. He won’t ever know how Chenle is feeling about this, because what Jisung was to Jeno, he was something else to Chenle. “And Jaemin hyung knows what it’s like to lose your boyfriend.” 

The silence in the car is jarring after that, and now Jeno really does regret shifting all of their moods.

None of them talk about Jisung anymore, unless it was something serious, or unless one of them were going through an episode. Other than that though, they don’t outwardly try to talk about their friend. 

And Jeno should’ve known better than to try to say something to Chenle, it was alright for him to feel the way that he is, and for him to do what he thinks he needs to to help himself. 

Jeno wasn’t in any position to say Jaemin wasn’t grieving properly, but really… Jeno doesn’t think he’s grieving properly. And he’d hate for Chenle to adopt the same habits as Jaemin, if that were truly the case. 

But he doesn’t have a say, so Jeno doesn’t say anything more. 

When they arrive at the café, Mark does his best to lift the mood up again, and it only works a little. Chenle laughs quietly at a joke Mark makes, and Jeno keeps his mouth shut in fear of saying something wrong again. 

Which makes it just a little awkward when Donghyuck greets them, only to whisk Mark away right after. As the two of them head to the back of the café and into the staff room, Jeno and Chenle wordlessly make their way to the same booth they were sitting in last time. 

Thankfully, it’s empty, and Jeno is about to apologize to Chenle and say that he should do whatever he feels comfortable doing, but someone slides into the seat next to him before he can say anything.

“Good evening,” Jaemin greets them both, smiling brightly, just like last time, and nursing a mug of coffee, just like last time. 

Jeno pushes the tray of sugar packets between then, just like last time. 

“Hello Jaemin hyung,” Chenle greets back, equally as bright as he sits up straighter. Jeno doesn’t really know what’s going through Chenle’s mind, but he doesn’t think he wants to know either. It could be a dark place, for all he knows. “How have you been?”

At Chenle’s question, Jeno looks at Jaemin properly.

Just like last week, his skin was sickly pale. His eyes are a little sunken in too, and if Jeno compares, it looks like he’s lost weight compared to the last time he’s seen him. 

All in all, Jaemin doesn’t look like he’s been  _ fine _ , but Jeno, once again, doesn’t know what he’s talking about when it comes to someone he barely knows. Which is also why Jaemin’s answer catches him off guard. 

“I’ve been doing alright,” he answers, and Jeno looks away before he can hear the telltale sounds of the sugar packet ripping open. Instead, he focuses on Donghyuck who comes back with the same drink he and Chenle had ordered last time. “And you?”

“Jaemin-ah, you shouldn’t eat too much sugar,” Donghyuck chastises before Chenle can answer Jaemin’s question, and as he sets down the drinks in his tray, he also grabs the tray of sugar packets, only leaving two in their wake. “That’s not good for you.”

“You always do seem to know what’s good for me, don’t you Duckie?” Jaemin sighs, and if Jeno didn’t know any better, he’d think Jaemin looks and sounds fond as he does so. But he truly  _ doesn’t  _ know any better, so he could be right. 

“Yes I do,” Donghyuck hums, sounding just a little proud. He smiles at Jaemin once more before turning to look at Chenle and Jeno. “Come to see Mark perform again?” 

“Actually,” Chenle pipes up, and Jeno tries to silently remove himself from the conversation as he takes a sip of his tea. It’s just as he remembers it, and he relishes in the warmth which warms up his bones. “I came here for Jaemin.”

Jaemin makes a surprise around at that, and he sits up straighter. It’s only then, that Jeno even notices that he had terrible posture before this. 

“For me?” he asks, clarifying as he leans his elbows on the table. Jeno notices a fox embroidered onto the sleeve, and then notices the sleeves fall over his fingertips. “I didn’t leave that good of an impression, did I?” 

“You did,” Chenle nods, taking a sip of his own tea. “You… get it. You get me. You know?” he adds more quietly, and it’s then that Donghyuck looks a little confused. 

Donghyuck turns to look at Jeno, who only subtly shakes his head, a way to tell Donghyuck that there was no way they could talk about this right now. 

And thankfully, Donghyuck notices and doesn’t say anything more.

“Well, you three have fun,” he says cheerily, looking back at the front corner of the café, where the Christmas tree still stands, decorated and still pretty. The speaker is already there too. “I have to finish setting up. Mark should play in around forty minutes.”

With that, Donghyuck leaves them again, and Jeno listens mildly to the hushed conversation Jaemin and Chenle are having. 

He doesn’t know why Jaemin doesn’t simply move to sit next to Chenle, instead of leaning over the table the way that he is. But he doesn’t question it, and tries his best not to listen to what Jaemin says whenever he mentions the name ‘Renjun.’

For one, Jaemin was telling this all to Chenle, and it didn’t feel right for Jeno to listen in on any of it. 

For two, the upwards quirk of Jaemin’s lips whenever he talks about Renjun makes Jeno feel queasy. He doesn’t know how Jaemin can talk about the less than lovely parts of everything he’s been through with a smile on his face, and he’s torn between thinking it was a symbol of strength, or a symbol of unwellness. 

But he doesn’t think too much about it. 

Instead, he watches as Donghyuck pulls the same stool up to the front, and as he hosts the night like he did the last time. 

Donghyuck sings with Mark again tonight, and it sounds lovely once more. Mark strums his guitar delicately, and Donghyuck’s voice matches perfectly. Everyone else seems to adore it too, because Mark and Donghyuck get the most applause and the cheers at the end. 

“Jaemin hyung,” Chenle says rushedly as they’re getting ready to leave. “Take my phone number.” 

Jaemin looks more than happy to type his phone number into Chenle’s phone, and Jeno has to bite his tongue in order to not say what he really thinks. 

That day, Chenle leaves with Jaemin’s phone number, and the week after, Jeno only gives Jaemin three packets of sugar before returning the tray to Donghyuck. 

**Author's Note:**

> there’s another chapter to be posted :) you can talk to me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/aurorahaechan?s=21) or my [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/aurorahaechan)


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